


Books and Their Covers

by manic_intent



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, That AU where Dorian and Cullen hook up through Thedr, and everything is fluff and hipster coffee, because of Evelyn's and Sera's shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 19:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3260885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manic_intent/pseuds/manic_intent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey. Hey. I have an <i>awesome</i> idea,” Sera said suddenly, having rolled slowly onto her back until her head and part of her shoulders were hanging off the edge of the couch. “We could… we could totally set Dorian up. With one of our, our <i>other</i> friends. He’ll cry less, we’ll drink less, everything will be <i>great</i>.”</p><p>“… Sounds doable,” Evelyn burped. “But who?”</p><p>“Urm.” Sera frowned. “What about Thom?”</p><p>“Naaah. He’s too much of a sad puppy. He’ll make it worse.”</p><p>“Bull?”</p><p>“Think he’s banging some waitresses right now. At least two. At the same time without either of them knowing. It’s like some <i>serious</i> spy shit.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Books and Their Covers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beingevil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beingevil/gifts).



> Because @errantheart is an enabler and snowed me with ideas on twitter.
> 
> Note: I don’t actually know firsthand how Tindr works, let alone Grindr, save from gossip from friends. So Thedr works a bit more like an imaginary form of Tindr. Enjoy. 
> 
> The discussed idea over twitter was for _both_ Dorian and Cullen to be pranked, but that got too clunky in practice (there are easier ways to set up a blind date without going to all that trouble), so, back to original idea…
> 
> This ‘verse is a random mix of Thedas and our world.

I.

“How’s His Royal Highness?” Sera stage-whispered, pink from alcohol and brimming laughter, as Evelyn tiptoed out of Dorian’s room.

“Finally asleep, fucking finally,” Evelyn whispered back, giggling as she rolled onto the couch. “Had to pour him into bed.” 

“God I thought he’d _never_ stop crying about… whatever he was crying about, yeah,” Sera wrinkled her nose. “What _was_ he crying about?”

“I forget. It was pretty important,” Evelyn said, muzzy after several rounds of beer herself, the bottles crowded over the coffee table of their apartment. She grumbled briefly as Sera propped her feet against her, the two of them squished awkwardly on the couch. “Something about… Tevinter having more than its share of religious extremists and… painting everyone with the same brush… therefore… everyone thinking that he’s possibly a suicide bomber?”

“As if Dorian would be caught dead in one of those vests unless it was made by Prada,” Sera drawled, and sniggered. 

“Tom Ford,” Evelyn corrected, with a faint smirk, and mimicked Dorian’s fussy tones, “‘Prada is _so_ commercial now, Evelyn’. My God. Why am I laughing? This is an _awful_ joke. Even for us. Even for _drunk_ us. It was bad. We should feel bad.” 

“Hey. Hey. I have an _awesome_ idea,” Sera said suddenly, having rolled slowly onto her back until her head and part of her shoulders were hanging off the edge of the couch. “We could… we could totally set Dorian up. With one of our, our _other_ friends. He’ll cry less, we’ll drink less, everything will be _great_.”

“… Sounds doable,” Evelyn burped. “But who?”

“Urm.” Sera frowned. “What about Thom?”

“Naaah. He’s too much of a sad puppy. He’ll make it worse.”

“Bull?”

“Think he’s banging some waitresses right now. At least two. At the same time without either of them knowing. It’s like some _serious_ spy shit.” 

“Varric?”

“Still not over Bianca.”

“Solas?”

“Are you kidding me? And _you_ don’t like him.”

“But he’s single, and-“

“And currently somewhere in the middle of Mongolia or whatever, looking for inner peace or whatever.” Evelyn rolled her eyes. She loved her friend Solas to death, she really did, but he was quite possibly the weirdest of her pool of friends, and that took commitment.

“Okay,” Sera sighed. “I give up. It was a thought… Wait. You still have the password to his phone, yeah?”

“He uses the same password for everything. Always has.”

“I’ve got an even better idea,” Sera smirked. “Go get it.”

It took a few stumbling attempts to make it from the couch to Dorian’s room and back, but soon they were huddled over the sleek iPhone, having navigated the passcode. “Look,” Sera said, “This makes it easier. He already has an account. We won’t have to sneak in and take a photo of his dorky sleeping face. Although that might be funny.”

“An account to?”

“ _Thedr_ , silly.” Sera tapped on the app. “Swipe left if you think someone isn’t hot, swipe right if you do, and if you both swipe right, you can set up a date!”

“But we don’t know what Dorian thinks is hot-“ 

“Well,” Sera wrinkled her nose again. “He likes guys. You like guys. This can’t be hard.”

“… Sera,” Evelyn said, with as much dignity as she could manage with the room swimming. “I… love your ideas.”

“I know.”

II.

Dorian didn’t get hangovers, which was a blessing, but his roommates did, which wasn’t, and today, they seemed to have decided to deal with it by lying on top of him in the morning, Evelyn sprawled over his chest, Sera over his knees. Sometimes, Dorian thought sourly, as he pushed ineffectively at Evelyn’s shoulders, he _really_ didn’t know why they were all friends.

“Heeeey,” Evelyn slurred, trying to burrow against him. “It’s _so_ bright right now.”

“It’s the _morning_ ,” Dorian said, as cruelly as he could, but Evelyn merely groaned and clung on, even as Sera burped against his knees. “Would the two of you _please_ … for God’s sake, your own _rooms_ are just down the corridor-“

“I’m going to throw up,” Sera said indistinctly.

“ _Please_ don’t.” Alarm managed to galvanise Dorian into finding the strength to haul Sera to her room, and he was about to repeat the ordeal with Evelyn when she stumbled out of his, giggling and brandishing his phone.

“Lookit _this_ ,” Evelyn purred, as Dorian made a futile attempt to regain his property. “You got a date!” 

“A date?” Dorian asked blankly. “Give me that!”

Evelyn relinquished the phone, skittering over to collapse into the couch, and Dorian glanced at the screen, blinking. It was a schedule notification from Thedr, notifying him that he had a… date appointment… at lunch… in the Green Dragon… 

“What. Who is _this_?”

“You can thank us later,” Evelyn slurred, sleepy again.

“ _Thank_ you?”

“We went and swiped right on a lot of people,” Evelyn giggled. “And then we talked to one… one of them who was still awake over the messaging thingy and set you up. Aren’t we awesome. Wait. Maybe we weren’t meant to tell you,” Evelyn said absently. “I forget.” 

Dorian took in a deep breath, and checked his ‘date’s’ profile picture. It was, perhaps unsurprisingly, blurry, showing a dour looking man with a crew cut the colour of a muddy puddle, dressed in a khaki t-shirt. _Khaki_. Dorian ran a palm over his face. “What. The fuck.”

“You have two hours to get ready,” Evelyn said helpfully. 

“ _Evelyn!_ ”

“Aww come on, we went to _all that trouble_ and besides,” Evelyn said brightly, as she slid gently down from the couch to the carpet, “It’ll be good for you to go out and meet new people now and then.” 

Dorian pinched at the bridge of his nose. “I’m the head librarian at the National Library, Evelyn, I meet people _all the time_.”

“More people! On _dates_ ,” Evelyn corrected cheerfully. “Besides, if you cancel on this guy right now, you’ll just sound like a dick. He seemed,” Evelyn added vaguely, “Really nice and everything.”

“That’s your drunken opinion, was it?”

“Yup! No. Maybe. But. _Dick_ ,” Evelyn repeated, and giggled, and there was no dealing with her when she was like this, in Dorian’s long and storied experience.

Grumbling, he washed up, disposed of all the bottles of beer into recycling, opened the windows, and close to half an hour before the appointed time, decided, to his profound irritation, to go for the ‘date’ anyway, if only to explain matters. After all, weird and dorky as his ‘date’ looked, he was probably the sole innocent party in this mess.

To his growing irritation, Dorian dressed up for it, out of habit, with a black Julius coat, accented with a robin’s egg blue Balenciaga scarf, A.P.C. for the rest, and when he headed for the door, Evelyn let out a wolf whistle from the couch that was echoed by an unsteady giggle from Sera’s room.

“I hate you both,” Dorian informed them all primly, as he let himself out.

III.

Cullen checked his watch with a sinking feeling. He was painfully out of place in this hipster little cafe, with its twelve different kinds of coffee and its ‘all day’ brunch, his date was over fifteen minutes late and he was fairly sure that he had just been stood up. It had been too good to be true after all. No one as hot as ‘Dorian’ had ever even deigned to swipe right on Cullen before, let alone message him.

Besides, judging from the somewhat rambling talk that they’d had over Thedr, Cullen was 80% sure that Dorian had been at least comfortably drunk when they were talking. Maybe he was regretting it now that he was sober, and… 

And that was definitely Dorian, breezing past the cafe’s orange bicycle prop at the faux warehouse wooden door, hands sunk into the pockets of a sleek coat, a blue scarf at his throat that accented his exotic looks, so strikingly handsome and poised that it looked as though he was heading straight for a magazine shoot. Cullen breathed in hastily when he realized that he had been holding his breath, even as Dorian’s stare swept the cafe, passing right over him - then going back, with a faint frown and a blink. 

Cullen waved sheepishly, and Dorian’s eyebrows jumped in surprise, then he sauntered over, settling at the intimately small wooden table, pulling out the metal stool with graceful economy.

“Cullen, I presume.” Even his _voice_ sounded beautifully exotic, as his dark eyes flicked over Cullen again, with what seemed like disbelief. Cullen fought the urge to look down over what he was wearing: comfortable jeans, a plain black shirt - compared to Dorian, he _did_ feel rather awkwardly underdressed.

“Er yes. Dorian, right? Ah. Good afternoon.”

“I’m sorry that I’m late.” Dorian said smoothly, “Parking’s a nightmare around here.”

“That’s all right,” Cullen said hastily. “I was happy to wait. I mean, it was okay. Waiting.” God. Sometimes Cullen didn’t know why he bothered waking up in the morning. 

Thankfully Dorian merely shot him another curious glance before picking up the menu. “Have you been here before?”

“Er no.” The menu - and everything else - paled considerably in comparison to the gorgeous man sitting opposite him, but Cullen stared at the menu briefly to show willing. The price point was higher than the diners he was used to, but he ordered a burger with chips and an espresso. Dorian, in comparison, ordered a salad and filter coffee, items that Cullen had always tended to view with suspicion. Was Dorian one of those anti-bacon vegans? It was hard to tell. And would possibly be a sticking point-

No. _No_. This was just a lunch date. And Cullen had quite obviously lucked out, big time. Even if it was just for now.

“Not hungry?” Cullen asked anyway, and Dorian’s lips quirked.

“I had a big night.” 

“Well, ah, you don’t look hung over at all.”

“I don’t get hangovers,” Dorian said delicately. “But a salad’s probably for the best right now.”

Ah hell. Cullen might as well get straight to the point. Tear off the scab before he got his hopes up. “So,” he said, with a wry smile, “How drunk were you when you agreed to a date with me?”

Dorian chuckled, a velvety sound that Cullen would have been happy to listen to forever. “Very much so. But,” he added, amused, “Just out of curiosity. How old is your profile photo?”

“Oh, it’s been a few years… that’s what I looked like before I went to West Point,” Cullen said, puzzled. “Why?”

“I didn’t recognise you when I walked in here.”

“In… a good way, or a bad way?”

“Consider me _pleasantly_ surprised,” Dorian purred, and heat jumped to Cullen’s cheeks. 

“Well, ah. That’s good?”

Dorian chuckled again. “Have you done this before? Hook up through Thedr?”

“Er, not really. I only just re-activated my account. Came back from a tour in the Marches just a few months ago.”

“You’re a soldier, then. Orlesian army?”

“Not exactly. NATO peacekeeping.”

“Oh,” Dorian looked surprised. “NATO has a private military?”

“Ah… not really a military… We were escorting doctors,” Cullen said, and ended up explaining the mission as Dorian listened attentively, now and then inserting a quick, often sharp question. Cullen was all too aware that he was starting to ramble on when the coffee came, and so he asked, “What do, ah, what do you do?”

“I’m a librarian.” Dorian smiled. “Nothing so exciting.”

“You don’t look like a librarian,” Cullen said, and blushed when Dorian snorted.

“Why, what were you expecting? Spectacles? Dowdy clothes? A woman, perhaps?”

“No… er… er no…” Cullen’s blush deepened as Dorian laughed. God, this was embarrassing. Cullen was briefly torn between trying to excuse himself early before he did any permanent damage and trying to find a way to extend his improbable date with someone so way out of his league for as long as possible. Avarice won out, and he took a sip of his espresso to calm his nerves. 

Lunch was somewhat less embarrassing, not that Cullen could remember very much of what they talked about, up until Dorian asked him lightly what he did in his spare time. “Um. Chess.”

“Really?” Dorian teased. 

“I used to be ranked,” Cullen said modestly, and _now_ he had made Dorian curious, he realized: there was a gleam in Dorian’s eyes now, and it got his hopes up a little, despite himself. 

Not that Dorian said anything towards the sort, talking politics in a desultory way until the lunch was over. Cullen paid, despite Dorian’s protests, and he felt self conscious again next to Dorian as they left the cafe, walking out into the warm afternoon sunshine. 

“What are you doing for the rest of the weekend?” Cullen asked, hoping that it didn’t sound too intrusive, but Dorian grinned at him, his thumbs hooked in his coat pockets.

“There’s a park nearby with blitz chess tables. Let’s see how ‘out of practice’ you are, Commander.”

IV.

“So how did the date go?” Sera demanded, the moment Dorian came home, and Evelyn perked up from the dining table, where she had forcibly taken over dinner prep from Sera, returning all the ‘diced’ chocolate to the fridge and away from the actual veggies.

Dorian paused for a long moment, then he sighed. “Don’t do that again, please.”

“That bad, huh?” Evelyn asked. She had actually felt guilty about it when she had woken up later in the afternoon, and had almost run out to check on Dorian, maybe rescue him if necessary, but Sera had mentioned pointedly that Dorian was more than capable of taking care of himself.

“Actually,” Dorian said dryly, “It wasn’t a total disaster.”

“Wow,” Sera said triumphantly. “See. We’re geniuses.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. What are we having for dinner?”

“… Pasta,” Evelyn decided, squinting at the ingredients. “And then I guess if you like,” she added comfortingly, “We can pop down to the pub.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Dorian disappeared into his room, and Evelyn and Sera exchanged surprised glances.

“Told you,” Sera decided. “We’re awesome.”

“I suppose nothing caught fire…” Evelyn said doubtfully, and was still contrite when she served out portions at the kitchen table, Dorian reappearing in his so-called ‘casual’ clothes, wear that was still good enough to get into most restaurants, in Evelyn’s opinion. 

“I guess we could introduce you to people we know,” Evelyn offered, as Sera broke out a bottle of red. “Thom’s not too bad, actually. Maybe you’ll like him.”

“This is your friend who looks like a man-bear?” Dorian asked dryly.

“Well, I don’t hold that against him-“

“Also the one painfully and obviously in love with you?”

“I don’t hold that against him either?” Evelyn hazarded, even as Sera sniggered. 

“He probably wishes you would hold that against him-“

Dorian shook his head slowly. “The two of you. Are insane. Please don’t interfere in my ‘love life’ any further.”

“ _Aww_ ,” Sera pouted. “I know a guy who knows a guy who-“

“ _No thank you_ , Sera.”

“Oh well,” Evelyn said, taking a sip of wine, “Who needs other people. We can go get brunch tomorrow. That french cafe down the block-“

“Actually,” Dorian said mildly, “I’ll be meeting someone for brunch.”

“What?” Evelyn blinked, just as Sera piped in, “Who?”

“Cullen, if you must know,” Dorian growled. “ _Not_ a word.”

“Well-“

“ _Ah._ ”

“But-“

“ _Evelyn_.”

“If it was that bad you don’t really have to go on a pity date,” Evelyn blurted out in a quick rush. “Seriously. If you want, I can pretend to be your girlfriend again.”

“It’s not a pity date and no, I’m not answering any more questions,” Dorian said firmly, and as such, Evelyn worried over it all through the rest of dinner and as they sat together to watch a pirated copy of _Gone Girl_ and afterwards, clearing out the popcorn, Dorian gone to bed and Sera curled in the cushions, Evelyn sighed. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Sera mumbled. “It’s probably just a placeholder date.”

“What’s a placeholder date?”

“Someone you go out with until you meet someone else,” Sera yawned. “Happens _all_ the time. Dorian hasn’t gone out with anyone for _ages_. Maybe Mister Dorky is just nice to talk to. Maybe it’s not even a date. Maybe they’re just getting dorky breakfast together.”

“Really?” Evelyn asked, fascinated, and made a special effort to clean up anyway, since apparently the ‘placeholder’ date was picking up Dorian from their place. She went to sleep feeling vaguely sorry for the dorky-looking crew-cut stranger whose photo Sera and Evelyn had drunkenly swiped right on in Thedr. 

Maybe she could introduce Thom to Cullen. That might be right.

The doorbell rang in the morning when Evelyn and Sera were still on their first cups of coffee, and Evelyn slouched over to the door a little grumpily to open it, raking a hand through her morning frizz. She opened the door with a little frown… and stared.

“Hi,” said what was possibly the hottest guy Evelyn had ever seen, kitted out in a black leather biker jacket, a gray shirt and probably illegally tight blue jeans. “Ah, I’m here to see Dorian?”

“ _You’re_ Cullen?” Evelyn demanded, in disbelief, even as behind her, from the kitchen, Sera yelped, “Holy _fucking_ cow!” 

“Er…” Cullen blinked at them both in rabbity surprise, even as Dorian swept out of his room, impeccable again in Tom Ford and Lanvin, squeezing past her and out of the door. 

“Morning,” Dorian said blandly, and took Cullen firmly by the elbow even as Evelyn continued to stare.

“Morning,” Cullen said adoringly, because the world was utterly unfair like that, and blushed as Dorian leaned over for a quick peck on the lips. Evelyn watched them head off to the lifts, blinked a bit more, then slowly closed the door. 

“I hate my life,” Evelyn told Sera, as she returned to her coffee, still wide-eyed.

“Dorian is totally buying drinks for us for the next month,” Sera agreed. “And I don’t even swing that way. Oh, cheer up, you,” she added, when Evelyn sighed. “Let’s go hang out with Varric and repeatedly prank Solas’ phone.”

“He’s in _Mongolia_.” 

“That’s why we need _Varric’s_ phone.”

V.

Cullen somehow managed to be adorable even during the morning after, whimpering Dorian’s name in the cramped ensuite shower stall as Dorian sucked him off, then pressing Dorian against the wall and kissing him worshipfully as he stroked Dorian off, always with that gorgeous look of awe in his eyes, like he couldn’t quite believe that all this was real. They kissed until the water ran cold, then dressed hurriedly and stepped out towards the kitchen for breakfast, Cullen’s mouth buried in his neck.

“Oh God, you two,” Evelyn said from the kitchen, even as Sera mimed a kiss that turned into a rude raspberry. 

“Good morning,” Cullen offered, embarrassed into slinking over to the kitchen. “Would you all like some breakfast?”

“You can cook?” Evelyn blinked.

“Um… if you have flour, eggs, sugar, butter and milk I can make pancakes?”

“… Wow,” Sera concluded, perking up, even as Evelyn raised an eyebrow at Dorian. 

“They’ll shackle you to that stove until you make enough pancakes for them to eat 'til they pass out,” Dorian warned.

Cullen laughed. “I grew up with younger siblings. I know what that’s like.” 

“I am now,” Evelyn decided, “Officially fucking jealous. What even. But yes, pancakes, please.”

“Me too.” Sera piped in. “D’you know how to make french toast?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Cookies?”

“… Yes?”

“Well,” Sera decided, “If you ever get bored of Dorian, let’s get married for tax reasons. It’ll be a no-touchy marriage, but hey. Pancakes.”

Dorian rolled his eyes, even as Cullen blushed and cleared his throat. “Stop frightening him, you two.” He pressed a palm against the small of Cullen’s back, as Cullen located the flour. 

“You still owe us that drink.” Sera reminded him.

“Fine, fine,” Dorian grumbled. “ _But_ this _doesn’t_ mean that I’m condoning what the both of you did.”

“Your arse. No wait! Your _mum’s_ arse.” 

“… Why do I bother.”

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: manic_intent  
> tumblr: manic-intent


End file.
